The Glory of Love
by The Lady Amalthea
Summary: Norrington is angsting over E's rejection, JS's escape, & rejects society. An old family friend decides he'll mope no more. Her unconventional nature and unhappiness with her lot as a woman raises his ire many times. Can their be a future with these two?
1. Bite thy toungue, lass

_"The Glory of Love"_

I couldn't think of a decent title, so I just named it after one of my favourite 80s songs. Plus, I think the lyrics fit Norrington's character pretty well, don't you? Notes at the bottom. Please enjoy!__

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. I shall not make any monetary profit from this story. All rights belong to Disney. Yar har har!! And really bad eggs! _

As he walked away, Commodore Norrington did not look back at the happily embracing couple behind him. He would have no regrets; he had done the correct and gentlemanly thing and conceded defeat to the young Will Turner by way of canceling his engagement to the object of their mutual affection, Miss Elizabeth Swan. Now, all that remained was for him to move forward onto other—literal—pursuits, such as that of Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl. It vexed the Commodore yet that he had yielded to his heart and not his better judgment. _Folly,_ he thought. The click of his heels over the stone mingled with the tromping of his men's footsteps and jangling equipment behind him. The bright Caribbean sun blinded him despite his tricorne hat. The noise, the heat, the sun, the perspiration stinging his eyes (or was it tears?) coupled with his bleeding heart nearly overwhelmed him. Not a weak man by any account, Norrington simply found himself to be weary of it all, and at that moment desired nothing but solitude. Without breaking stride to face him, he spoke to his second, Lieutenant Gillete. The younger man jogged two paces forward to be side-by-side with his commander. 

"Lieutenant, I am retiring early. Please see to it that the ships are amply supplied and inspected for sea-worthiness. We will put out of port first thing tomorrow." 

Gillete nodded his understanding. "Yes, sir. Any other instructions, sir?" 

His earlier mistakes still freshly branded onto his brain, the Commodore responded in a clipped, even tone. "I want our heavy ships armed to the teeth, as it were. The Black Pearl shall not escape again, nor shall her captain." _I will not make the same mistakes again, _he silently vowed. "That is all. Dismissed." 

Gillete gave a salute, and with their noisy regiment, was off to carry out his orders. 

Norrington saw his estate coming into view ahead of him. There would be dozens of servants to welcome him home. A relaxing bath would be waiting, as would a cool midday meal. His steps slowed as he realized that today, like every day before it, the house would remain bereft of a lady's touch, a _wife's_ touch. He would have his meal alone, and his large bed would remain cold and empty. He had never wanted for anything in his life, save for someone to share it with. He truly believed he had found that someone, that kindred spirit, in Miss Swan. 

He came to the large, wrought iron gates of his estate, and the manservant, though surprised at seeing his master approach on foot, dutifully swung them open to admit him. Norrington gave a slight nod of acknowledgement and walked on. He came to a large stone planter and leaned heavily upon it, his mental exhaustion taking its toll on his body. The planter, he belatedly noticed, was full of pink oleanders, one of Elizabeth's favourite flowers. He remembered having it planted there for her many years earlier. Pausing a moment, he inhaled the sweet fragrance. "So sweet, yet so incredibly poisonous." he mused. 

Abruptly, he straightened. _There will be none of this mooning,_ he thought. _She is lost to me. I shall not pine for her._ He resumed his pace into the residence, thinking no further on the subject. 

When he arrived indoors, as predicted there were servants waiting for him, ready to execute any orders he had to give. What he did not predict was that there would be a visitor, someone he had met only once before. 

Rear Admiral Reginald Bennett was sitting, quite at ease, on one of the numerous couches in the front parlor. He rose at the master of the residence's entrance. 

The Admiral's presence could mean only one thing. With the expertise of a cardsharp, Commodore Norrington hid his dismay behind a facade of confused surprise. "Admiral! How good it is to see you. I hope you and your family are well?" 

"Yes, indeed they are," was his gravelly response. "And you, Commodore?" 

"I am as usual." 

"All boisterousness and unreserve? Letting your shirttail show?" the Admiral guffawed. 

Norrington observed the man before him as he continued to have his jollies mocking his subordinate. The Admiral was much older than he was, but of normal age for his rank. His face was creased and rosy, his uniform prim and proper with many gold embellishments as befitted his rank. His brown eyes, though slightly dull with age, glinted in his mirth. They finally calmed and fixed on him. Norrington politely averted his gaze, thus ending his study. 

Admiral Bennett cleared his throat, obviously readying himself to speak words of some import. "Now, to the point. When I met you last year, Commodore, I was quite impressed by your abilities. I was equally impressed by your strong character, for what is someone of great ability without the judgment and intellect to put such ability to proper use? Hence, I expedited your promotion, feeling you more than ready to handle the command of a seaport. Now, I wonder if I was not a bit hasty." 

Commodore Norrington swallowed gently, but was unable to moisten his now dry throat. He listened on in silence, betraying nothing of his stormy emotions to his superior. 

The Admiral continued, arms behind his back, pacing slowly around the room. The servants had long since vanished, knowing this discussion to be none of their affair. "I could not have been incorrect, mind you, for that is a very unusual occurrence and will not be wasted on you, but I allow that I may indeed have, in my excitement, exercised undue haste in your promotion. Your recent actions have called mine into question. I set sail here as soon as I received word." 

"Please sir, I would like to assure you that I am as sound of mind and judgment as ever I have been, and indeed, you have not made a mistake in promoting me." Norrington knew all entreaties would fall on deaf ears, however, he must try. 

Admiral Bennett waved his hand dismissively. "You are missing the point. It is not the promotion, for you are deserving of such a rank. It is the timing. Perhaps you are too young for such a post. It seems you still desire to be gallivanting about the ocean rather than guarding a port. Is not this true?" The Commodore made to reply, but the Admiral went on. "You have been assigned to Port Royal, and not only did you abandon your post and take to the sea, you took a number of His Majesty's ships with you, and one, the Interceptor, was scuttled. Not to mention the number of sailors' lives lost. What have you to show for it? You did not sink the last remaining pirate threat on these waters, nor did you capture that infamous Sparrow." 

Norrington noticed the Admiral's face had turned slightly purple, and he watched as he paused, apparently to calm himself and draw breath for what he would say next. 

"Governor Swan has spoken to me on your behalf," Bennett resumed. "You did safely return his daughter, which I understand was your primary goal. I understand as well that you valiantly defended the port when it came under attack from the aforementioned ship. My reports tell me that this ship, the _Black Pearl_, is underway now, and you intend to pursue. Is this true?" 

"Yes, sir. My lieutenant is preparing the ships as we speak. I fully intend to sink the _Black Pearl _and bring her crew to justice." A bit of hope rose in him, and Norrington grasped at it. "My actions admittedly were rash, but at the time I saw no other route than to handle the affair myself, being as it was of such a delicate political nature. I assure you, that I have the Empire's best interests at heart in everything I do. I will set out tomorrow and I will not fail. As an officer of the Royal Navy, I swear it." 

"Commodore, " Bennett pursed his lips. "Your words are most reassuring. They are only words, however, flowery and polished though they may be. Unfortunately, you will not have the opportunity to discharge that oath at this juncture. You may not set sail without my, or another of your executive officer's, permission." 

Wanting to protest, but knowing himself to be fully deserving of this sentence in the eyes of justice and Naval regulation, he remained silent. Only the gentle balling of his fists betrayed his anger. Not at the Admiral, but at himself. 

Bennett saw them, and misinterpreted the meaning. "I see you are unhappy with my decision. Nevertheless, I stand firm. You will have ample time to redirect your emotions to more constructive use." Here his eyes took on a somewhat suspicious cast. He continued in a low tone. "Personal vendettas have no place in our military, Commodore." His voice reverted to its prior businesslike cant as he said, "Rest assured, though, that there are a number of capable captains under your command who will be able to carry out your orders with the utmost degree of dedication and precision. I put my faith in them, and you should as well." He pulled at his watch fob and the timepiece slid out of its pocket. Checking the time, he added, "If you have no further comment…" 

Norrington shook his head. "No, sir." 

"I shall be off then. The Governor has invited me for a celebratory supper. It seems his daughter is being married. Aren't you attending as well?" 

The temperature of the room seemed to increase ten degrees, and Norrington hoped he did not look as flushed as he felt. "I have declined. I am…unwell today." 

If Admiral Bennett took notice of anything, it was of the social faux pas of the Commodore's declining an invitation to such a ranking person's table. He made no comment, however, and taking his leave, said "I trust there shall be no more 'rash actions' from you, Commodore. Good evening." 

As soon as the Admiral had gone, Norrington slumped into a wingback chair next to the fireplace. His hand hooded his eyes from view, keeping any passerby from seeing their clearly reflected anguish. 

_6 months later._

Katherine looked out of her study window over the bay. The cerulean waters held her in thrall, as if they had a mysterious power of their own to lure wondering maidens to their mysterious depths. Her quill sat across her unfinished letter to a friend in England. An observer would note that there were many ink blotches and cross-outs scattered over the page, and that her penmanship seemed hastily scrawled, instead of written in the even and elegant hand of a cultured lady. Indeed, she had begun the letter in extreme excitement. After having been confined to the island since her arrival in Port Royal seven years ago, unable to journey out aboard a ship or otherwise, she had gone out with her father on one of his merchant vessels (not very far, due to the threat of piracy), and she had seen a pack of sharks! She had watched them hunt in the crystalline waters, and, all too soon, the ship returned to shore. Immediately upon returning, she had scrambled to her room to compose the letter to Lydia. Its contents began with a very trumped-up account of the shark hunt, moved into complaints of her father's heavy-handed "protection" of her person, and eventually wafted into more ordinary drivel, such as the obligatory inquiries about the health of the other and her family, the latest fashions, what went on in port, the handsome men she'd seen lately, etc. 

It was upon this last topic that her mind dwelled, rather upon one handsome man in particular. 

"Kitty!" 

Katherine spun around in her chair, almost knocking it over. She favored her governess with an irritated glare. "Mrs. Banks, I've asked you not to call me that. It is childish. And you startled me!" 

Mrs. Banks bustled about the room, placing her charge's jewelry back into its proper containers, and opening her closet to determine what types of dresses she had, and what type she might need for the coming autumn. "My apologies, dear, but you are still a child, and it is a hard habit to break." 

"I am not a child. I have been two and twenty for these last two months. That is plenty old enough not to be addressed by a child's nickname." 

Smiling, Mrs. Banks affectionately replied. "Perhaps, but you will always be a child to me." Katherine rolled her eyes as Mrs. Banks came to the window. "I see you were writing a letter. Dreadful penmanship, you can do better. To whom were you writing?" 

"Lydia, in Devonshire." 

"I wonder how that young lady is doing," the older woman mused as she continued about the room. "Now, Kit—Katherine, your lack of attentiveness is not becoming of a lady. I called to you in excess of three times before entering. You have not always been so absent-minded. May I ask what it is that has you so preoccupied?" 

Katherine sat back into her chair and resumed staring out the window. "I don't think its anything anyone can truly be of assistance with." 

"Let me determine if I can help you." 

Letting out a small, aggrieved sigh, Katherine spoke softly. "I am concerned about Commodore Norrington. He's not been himself these last several months. At least not since" and her voice lowered a bit, "Miss Swan's marrying Mr. Turner. I know he cared very deeply for the Governor's daughter, and he must be heartbroken." 

"Pish tosh." Mrs. Banks nearly laughed. "Men do not love women so deeply as to ever be heartbroken. It is our lot to pine, theirs to be the subjects of it. If it is heartbreak, but more likely is simply wounded pride, he would be over it shortly." 

"But he isn't. It has been five months almost to the day of their marriage. The Commodore hasn't at all begun acting like himself again, and it worries me that perhaps he is unwell. He does not attend balls as he used to, even ours, and in fact sent Lieutenant Gillete to the most recent one. Father planned it with the explicit notion of drawing him into society with the promise of many eligible ladies and dear family friends, but he declined. I spoke to Gillete and he shares my concerns. He informed me that, while he is taking very good care of his men as always, he does not share in any of their revelries or social undertakings. He has become quite withdrawn. Gillete feels it may have something to do with the Admiral's visit all that time ago, and perhaps the lack of progress with the pirates, but doesn't know for certain. Its so very worrisome." 

Mrs. Banks gave Katherine a sly look. "What makes you take such a particular interest in the Commodore's well being? Do you fancy him?" 

Mildly offended, Katherine responded tersely. "Of course not. He is an upstanding gentleman, and a dear family friend. Why should I not be concerned?" 

"You've been acting like those silly, empty-headed girls that flirt with the officers all day, and now this. I was simply commenting on what I have observed." 

Now truly offended, Katherine stood, her fists clenched. "Me? An empty-headed flirt? Why is it that whenever a member of our sex becomes concerned, however platonically, for a man, it is automatically deemed infatuation? He is certainly not beneath my notice, and as he is a close friend of my family whom I have been acquainted with for many years, I believe it is my duty to be concerned for his welfare." 

Unrelentingly, Mrs. Banks pushed the matter just a bit further. "I know I have made you read Shakespeare, and there is a line in _Macbeth_: 'Methinks she doth deny too much.'" 

Frustrated at the impasse, Katherine crossed the room, blonde braid swinging behind her, and shut the door to the hallway. Tired of arguing, and ready to dress for dinner, she decided to end the conversation. "Fine. I am not in a position to tell people what they cannot think. However, I am in a position to tell you what you cannot do. You cannot spread your speculation to anyone else, do you understand?" 

Knowing that to pursue the matter could cause real trouble, Mrs. Banks assented. "I do." 

Katherine knew Mrs. Banks' word was her bond, and trusted the matter closed. She smiled warmly at her governess and lifelong companion, truly grateful for her devil's advocate position. "Thank you. Now, I have a favour to ask. I know that Commodore Norrington lives alone. That is to say, without any family or anyone to take care of him, or question him. I would greatly appreciate it if you would inquire of his servants as to whether or not he is taking care of himself. It would put me at ease to know he is at least eating and sleeping properly. Would you do this for me?" 

"Of course I shall. You must promise me, though, that once I tell you the good Commodore is healthy as a horse, that you will stop this foolish behavior and pay more attention to what's happening around you. You are a very intelligent girl. I do not wish for you to end up like those flirtatious girls." Mrs. Banks admonished. 

"We'll see." Katherine teased, her eyes sparkling. 

Mrs. Banks threw up her hands as she glanced at the mantle clock. "Oh my! We must get you dressed for dinner. Come dear, hurry!" 

The next morning, Mrs. Banks sent a servant to make inquiries at the Norrington household. Katherine was just rising from bed when her governess came into the room and opened the curtains, flooding the room with bright and cheery sunlight. "Good morning, my dear. I have news from the Norrington staff." 

Katherine was instantly awake. "Truly? What do they say?" 

"They say that, while he does not attack his plate with the gusto he once did, he manages to swallow a decent portion at every meal. He keeps himself up as normal, never misses a bath or has a hair out of place. Nothing around the house suffers or wants. He is melancholy, but that is it. Are you satisfied?" 

_Not really_, Katherine thought, but only nodded vaguely. 

"If it relieves your mind, I was also informed he has not sought any sort of female companionship, either." Mrs. Banks added suggestively. 

Katherine reached for a pillow, ready to fling it at her governess. "Aren't we cheeky today? Why would I care about that? For that matter, Commodore Norrington would never do such a thing. Gentlemen do not hire women for comfort." 

Face turned into the closet and voice muffled by dresses, Mrs. Banks murmured sadly, "How naïve she is. Poor girl has a lot to learn." 

While Mrs. Banks picked out a dress for her to wear, Katherine sat in bed, arms crossed. For some reason, the idea of Norrington hiring a woman troubled her greatly. _Why should it bother me? I do not fancy him at all. He is too sedate, too obsessed with his work. He is quite a dashing figure, but is not quite tall enough for my taste. And I wish he didn't always wear that powdered wig!_

Mrs. Banks interrupted her thoughts by bustling over with a dress of pale blue silk. "Must wear your summer colors while you still can." She hung the dress on the folding screen and ushered her charge into the adjoining bathroom. 

When the morning toilette had been finished and breakfast consumed, Katherine decided she wanted to go shopping in the marketplace. It was decided that she, Mrs. Banks, and a servant would go out immediately in the gig. When they reached the outskirts of the market, the three climbed down and dismissed the gig until three hours from thence. The driver nodded and left them to their business. 

It was a busy Saturday morning, and the market was bursting with activity. Everywhere people were hawking their goods, everything from fresh seafood to fine silks. Katherine knew a ship had just come in yesterday from Europe, and she was dying to know what its cargo had been. She moved quickly through the mob of people, seeking out one of the imported goods stalls. She did not hear Mrs. Banks or the maid calling after her, and soon she found herself alone. Katherine shrugged to herself. She rather preferred being alone, that way she could go where she liked, and speak to whom she liked. She found the stall she was looking for, and to her dismay learned the ship had brought mostly wine, tea, and gold to pay His Majesty's troops with and finance improvements to the port. However, there had been a few items of interest aboard the ship, and the shopkeeper held one up to her. It was a white porcelain tea service, with pure gold trimmings. There were delicately painted scenes of young lovers on the kettle, cups, saucers, creamer, sugar dish, spoons, and serving tray. 

"Its French, milady," the keeper informed her. 

"Its charming," she breathed. She turned to request Mrs. Banks pay the gentlemen when she remembered that Mrs. Banks wasn't with her. She sighed somewhat disappointedly, and wondered if she could come back later. "Are there many of these?" 

"This be the only one, miss." 

"Would you be so kind as to reserve it for me?" 

"Unfortunately, miss, I canna," he drawled. "I might get a good offer while yer away." 

Katherine fidgeted with her lace in frustration. This man was trying to get more than the set was worth from her, but she was not about to promise some exorbitant amount of money to him. She looked back at the set on the counter and at the young couple dancing merrily across the teacups. She did so want it… 

"Miss. Howell!" 

A deep, masculine voice was calling her name, and Katherine turned about, seeking its owner among the crowd. She finally spotted him, his three-pointed hat, rather, and his eyes just above the heads of the crowd. His blue eyes met her hazel ones, and recognition lit within them. He hurried through the crowd to her, relief obvious on his face. 

"Miss Howell," he began when he finally reached her. "Your governess, your maid, and myself have been quite worried about you. We crossed paths on my way to the fort, and she informed me you had been lost. I am most relieved that I was able to locate you." 

"Worried about me?" Katherine laughed it off. "Whatever for?" 

"Many things could happen to an unescorted lady in this place. I do not wish to trouble you with the examples." Norrington replied gently. He looked over her shoulder (and Katherine realized he was taller than she previously thought) and spied the shopkeeper impatiently holding the tea set. He looked back at Katherine, and queried, "Were you admiring this porcelain?" 

"I was," she responded wishfully. "Mrs. Banks has my purse, though." 

Commodore Norrington reached to a small purse at his waist and retrieved a few gold coins from it. He proffered them to the shopkeeper, asking, "Will this be enough?" 

The shopkeeper nodded, trying to keep a poker face but doing a dismal job. He placed the set into a box and wrapped it in tissue. He handed it to Norrington, and as they walked away, they heard him mutter "Bob's yer uncle" gleefully to himself. 

They walked silently side-by-side for a few moments before Katherine ventured a belated 'thank you' to the Commodore. She honestly hadn't meant to ask him to purchase it, or imply that he should. She felt ashamed, as it seemed that the Commodore thought she meant him to pay for it. "Thank you for purchasing this for me. You needn't have. Mrs. Banks would have taken care of it." The words had no sooner left her mouth than she had to resist the urge to clap her hand over her lips. They sounded so snobbish that she was appalled. She should not belittle his kind gesture. Katherine felt her face heat and did not know what to say in apology. 

If Norrington noticed her pertness, he gave no indication. "That is quite all right. It was worth it to see the smile on your face." 

Katherine heard the sincerity in his voice. "As soon as I find Mrs. Banks, I'll have her repay you." 

The Commodore smiled in a friendly way and declined any repayment. "Which reminds me that I haven't properly greeted you today. How are you, Miss Howell?" 

"I am well, thank you," she replied. "And yourself?" 

"You have already brightened my morning. May I escort you to Mrs. Banks?" 

Katherine knew this was not a request, and her consent was inconsequential. Bristling slightly, she acquiesced nonetheless and, taking his proffered arm, added, "If you are not in any hurry, I don't mind if we take our time." 

Seeming slightly puzzled by her request to dawdle, he replied, "I do have some business to attend up at Fort Charles, but it can wait." 

"Thank you!" Katherine said, much relieved. 

As they continued to explore the market, Norrington's curiosity got the better of him. "If I may ask, why do you seem so reluctant to rejoin your party? Is anything wrong?" 

"No, nothing is wrong," replied Katherine. "It is only that…." she trailed off, looking up at her companion. She fixed on his eyes, blue and deep as the ocean, and something in them inspired an upwelling of trust within her. "I wish for more than what they will allow. I want to be able to meet all sorts of people, learn all sorts of things, and have all sorts of adventures. I do not wish to be confined to this island forever. Do not misunderstand," she hastened to add. "I love this island and it is my home forever, but I wish to explore around it, to see what is over the horizon. I am truly hopeless, am I not?" 

Shifting her package under his free arm, Norrington replied, "Of course you are not. Being the daughter of a merchant has its privileges. You have already seen more than ladies twice your age will have seen. You are very intelligent, Miss Howell, and I am certain you realize that much knowledge can be gleaned from books—" 

"But books do not compare to the experience of living!" she interrupted, voice full of passion. 

Norrington looked into her eyes as she said this. They burned with olive fire and begged understanding. He could completely understand her thirst for knowledge, her desire to be a participant, not an observer, in life. However much he could understand it, he could not condone it from her. A lady was subject to all sorts of pitfalls a gentleman was not. It was not due to any sort of inferiority or deficiency on the part of her sex. It is the way things are. 

Katherine had fallen quiet after her outburst. "Forgive me, " she said finally. "It was rude of me to interrupt. Please continue." 

"No apology is necessary, Miss Howell. I quite understand your feelings. However, it is a dangerous world we live in, and the precautions taken are for your own protection. Please understand that." 

"I suppose I understand it, I simply cannot accept it." Katherine began thinking aloud without meaning to: "Why, when you and I both have two eyes, two ears, two arms, two legs, a brain containing an independent mind, and a voice to express those independent thoughts, why is my sex to be so sheltered from life, and yours be given the run of it?" 

"I…" Norrington did not realize those words were not actually meant for his ears, and he tried to formulate an answer, though he had none, at least none that would not be chauvinistic or otherwise unacceptable to her 

Katherine realized what she had done, blushed, and hung her head in outright mortification. _What is wrong with me today? I am all ease and running off at the mouth. I am certain the Commodore is much offended by my vulgar behaviour, and wishes he were with someone else. Oh! I am so wretched! _She longed to remove her arm from his, but to do so would be extremely rude as well, and would be the salt on the wound her impudence had caused him. 

The pair walked on in a heavy silence through the market's crowded center for a period, until the Commodore cleared his throat and nodded his head indicating a spot a small distance ahead of them and to the left. Katherine could see Mrs. Banks and the Maid standing beneath an awning, facing away from them. "There is your governess. We'll be with her shortly." 

Katherine was still burning with mortification and self-recrimination, and wanted to be separated from his company as quickly as possible. "I thank you for everything you've done for me today. You have been very kind. I believe I can make it to Mrs. Banks safely on my own from here. " 

Norrington gave her a knowing look and attempted to lighten the mood. "Trying to slip away again? I am sorry, madam, but I cannot allow it. My duty will be discharged only when you are safely at your governess' side." 

_Duty!? Is he only doing this out of some sense of obligation? Does he not feel some sort of friendly affection for me, as I do him? Is my company only a chore for him? _"Seriously, Commodore," she began, gently pulling her arm from his. He watched her, aghast, and wary she indeed might bolt. She smiled graciously at him. "It is scarcely two hundred steps from here to there. I see no reason to trouble you any further." And to prove her point, she very deliberately turned and began walking towards the striped awning. 

Katherine had scarcely taken ten steps when she was practically mauled by a man tearing through the market like a horse with its tail on fire. All she knew was at one moment she was walking triumphantly away from the Commodore (over his heated protests) and the next she was being roughly hauled up out of the dirt. She was dragged along by her arm, her long blond curls in her face and preventing her from seeing where she was going or with whom. "Commodore Norrington?" With her free hand she pushed her hair out of her eyes and came face to face with a very dirty, toothless man. She screamed before he had a chance to clamp a grimy hand over her mouth. 

Norrington heard Katherine's shrill scream over the marketplace commotion. He had lost sight of her in the dust and crowd, and had joined with the pursuing squad of soldiers to track her down. He had called a hasty reassurance to Mrs. Banks and departed, jogging through the dirt streets at a fast clip. Her shriek sent a shiver of fear down his spine, but he reassured himself that it sounded like one of fear and surprise, not of pain. At least now he knew which direction to go. He shouted orders to the men scattered around him, and they changed direction. He hastened his pace. _Please, don't let anything happen to her. _

Wanting nothing more than to bite her captor's hand, but fearful she might contract some disease, Katherine did everything in her power to slow his progress. As they traversed the alleys behind the stalls and kept close to their framework, she deliberately caught her thick skirts on every nail and corner they came across so that he would have to stop and yank her off. She dragged her feet, grabbed onto things with her free hand, and even tried to trip him. On her most recent attempt, he drew a rusty but wicked looking dagger and pressed the point against her throat. "You'd best stop that, wench." 

Katherine resolved to stop trying to trip him. 

A few moments more of this laboured progress and the man stopped, letting out a curse. They had come to a dead end against a large stone storehouse. Katherine was elated. They would have to go back the way they came, and that would certainly put them in the path of Commodore Norrington and his men. 

The man was still mulling over his options when the thumping of booted feet and clanking of metal interrupted his thoughts. Realizing at last that he was cornered, he did what any desperate man in his situation would do. He pulled Katherine's back against him and pressed the dagger just enough into the soft flesh of her throat that a thin line of blood appeared. He prepared to make his stand. 

When she felt the prick of the dagger and the resulting warm trickled of blood, Katherine truly became afraid. She had never felt anything like this fear before. She had the urge to scream, to run into a corner and crouch with her head covered, to just run, somewhere, anywhere. She wanted to climb the walls, wanted to lash out at the man who held her captive. She tried to move her arms, but the man held her fast in his bear-like grip. With that dagger threatening to dig more deeply into her flesh, she was helpless. She wondered faintly that if she hadn't been so foolish, might she have avoided this situation altogether? 

It was in this state of introspection that the Commodore found her. As he took stock of her person, he saw the fear plainly written upon her face, the smear of blood on her throat where the dagger pierced her skin, and her shredded dress. His hand went to his saber, clenching around its pommel. _Animal! If he has harmed her…_He swallowed, dreading the next possibility. _If he has violated her in any way…._ Norrington refrained from drawing his sword at this moment, instead barking orders for the men to surround the two and keep their guns aimed and steady. Suddenly, he was overcome by an extreme sense of déjà vu. However, unlike the last time, this man looked desperate enough that he truly would inflict grave harm on his hostage. 

The man tightened his grip on Katherine. "Ya don't want ta do that, Commodore. Ya shoot a' me, she's getting' a new smile. All I wan' is fer ya ta honor yer end of our agreement." 

"I am afraid I cannot do that, for you did not keep your end." Commodore Norrington was in no mood for this nonsense. "You said you knew where the Black Pearl is located, and you sent us on a wild goose chase. I cannot reduce your sentence. And now that you have broken out of jail, things will only be much worse." 

"I will 'ave the pirates on you and your town!" the man croaked. 

"You will not. You are a petty thief, not a pirate. Now, release the lady unharmed and we may be lenient." 

The man practically drew Katherine off her feet as he again tightened his grip and pressed the dagger tip into her neck, calling forth a fresh trickle of blood. She unintentionally whimpered. The man was going to play his trump card. " Long as I 'ave 'er, ya won't do nothin'. Ya kill me, she dies, too. Lemme go free from 'here and ya kin 'ave 'er." 

Norrington did not like making bargains with criminals. It had taking some convincing by his subordinates to make him agree to the deal struck at the jail. With a hostage involved, though, it made things that much more difficult, especially as the hostage was an upstanding lady of his personal acquaintance. He turned the possibilities over in his head. _The man is a petty thief, true enough, and he won't have any way of getting aboard a ship, I will see to that_. _The possibility is great that he will simply be recaptured in a few days or so. _He called for his men to lower their weapons. 

Seeing that he apparently had won, the thief relaxed his grip and he unconsciously dropped the dagger down to Katherine's collarbone. She did not wish the Commodore to have to let a criminal run free on her account, and she saw an opportunity to escape and still allow the Commodore to get his man. Swiftly, she kicked her foot backwards and up between his legs and the solid heel of her shoe connected with his groin. The man gave a heaving groan, and lurched backwards, but still maintaining a decent grip around her waist. Katherine reached for the dagger, clenching her hand around his wrist and trying with her other hand to wrench it from his grasp. 

Acting quickly, the troops swarmed over them, eventually forcing the thief to the ground and fixing shackles to his arms and legs, while Katherine was ushered away from the tussle. She quickly found herself in the relieved embrace of Commodore Norrington. His strong arms encircled her protectively, and Katherine could not help but notice how warm he was. _He smells so nice, smoky and rich, like a forest…_Almost as quickly as it had begun, the embrace ended, the Commodore no doubt remembering the impropriety of this action. He quickly removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders to hide her tattered dress and protect her dignity. A handkerchief was pulled from his pocket, and he gently dabbed at her neck until the blood was gone and he satisfied that she was no longer bleeding. His hands clasped her shoulders, and he fixed his eyes on hers. 

"Have you been otherwise injured?" he asked, voice thick with his concern. 

"No." 

"Thank goodness." Relief flooded his voice and softened his features. Relief quickly gave way to anger, however, as he dropped his hands from her shoulders. "What were you thinking? You could have been killed." 

"I was simply trying to make certain the thief did not escape. An opportunity presented itself, and I took advantage. Would not you have done the same? Did you not want to capture the criminal?" 

Frustrated, Norrington replied, "That is not the point. You had no idea what would happen, no idea of what our plans were, none at all. You should have let myself and my men handle it."

Katherine felt her ire rising within her. This was not the response she had expected. Even now, thanks to her actions, the man was being led away in shackles. He would have escaped otherwise, she knew it. "Why should I have? You should be at least a bit grateful that I helped you catch that man—" 

Norrington raised his voice. "He would have been captured eventually, anyway. If you had simply listened to me earlier, you would never have gotten involved!" 

"If you had simply allowed me a bit of breathing room instead of holding me to you as if I were a frail old woman…Even if I had been on your arm when that man ran into me, there's no way of knowing if he wouldn't have taken me!" 

"It would have been far less likely, and at least I would have been there to protect you!" 

"Who's to say that would have had any effect?" Katherine scoffed, totally irate now. 

"Enough!" Norrington roared. He'd had enough of her sauciness and ungratefulness. He was ashamed that he was arguing with her, ashamed that again he had let his emotions get the better of him, and now in front of his men. "You are a silly, naive girl who knows nothing about the world. You should just be quiet and do as you are told, and we all—" 

The slap echoed against the stone wall, reverberating for what seemed like an eternity in Katherine's ears. She was not aware of even having raised her hand until the deed was done. Eyes darting from her hand to the Commodore's face, she tried to form words of apology. In her state of consternation, she was able to express nothing. 

Norrington was shocked. His face stung with the sheer force of the blow. He had never given a woman occasion to slap him, and did not find this situation justified the abuse of his face, either. Thoroughly humiliated, the sight of her became suddenly detestable. _I have been going through Hell lately, and now this. _He said nothing further to her, instead ordering two of his men to escort her back to her home. He gave a terse bow to her and departed to the fort to fill out his report. 

As Katherine was led away, she looked over her shoulder at the Commodore's retreating back. _What have I done?_

_To be continued in the next segment. _

That didn't go too well, did it? Not the best way to begin what is _supposed_ to be a romance. 

So, what did you folks think? I do not often write fanfiction, and in fact, this is only the second story I have posted to ff.net. The first doesn't show on my profile, so I assume its been lost to the internet black hole. And, I know you are saying, "What?? This ISN'T slash? WTF??" Sorry to disappoint, but it is not. I searched the 'Net and after finding virtually no non-slash Norrington fanfiction wherein the poor man does not get someone else's (read: Will Tuner's) damaged goods, I felt it was my mission to write this. I hope I have done at least a half-decent job of it. The good Commodore and I had a heart to heart on the subject of slash when he found out about the genre and the sheer number of such stories. He is quite elated that he has fans, but does not find the idea of himself being "engaged" with Gillete, Will, or Jack Sparrow, in any sort of intimate embrace to be particularly to his taste. In fact, as he left, the Lieutenant approached in the hallway. I distinctly heard the Commodore say (or did he scream?):

(whisper of metal as a sword is drawn from its scabbard) "Lieutenant, you are not to come any closer to me than this sword length! Do you understand?"

Gillete: "I do not…" (takes a few steps closer)

Norrington: "NO!! Stay AWAY!! And keep those slashfics away from me as well!"

Gillete: "??"

My parents are both Navy, and my father (a captain himself. Yay!) remarked to me that "Commodore" is not actually a rank in the Navy, but rather a temporary assignment, or elevation of status. If he had really been promoted, the next rank from Captain would be Rear Admiral. To keep true to the movie, we'll just say it's a rank, savvy? 

Oh yes, you must check out the live journal "Norringtonsez" at . It is truly hilarious! 

Please, don't be shy about leaving feedback. Just….make it constructive. No needless flaming, savvy? I apologize if the italicized thoughts don't show. I typed thjs up iin MS Word and then converted it to html in FrontPage. Oh, and for those wondering, Cap'n Jack _will_ make an appearance later, probably in the not-so-distant future. Also, the rating for this story may go up, depending on what sort of feedback I receive. So, click yer mousies over yonder button and review! 


	2. Addendum with notes or something

Sorry about this folks! For some reason, a lot of the formatting didn't come through when I uploaded the first chapter. I'd like to apologize and ask for any insight as to why this occurred from any who may know. Also, that link that was supposed to be at the bottom to the journal "Norringtonsez" is "http://www.livejournal.com/users/norringtonsez/."  
  
Again, I am truly sorry! 


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